


How It Was

by Michael_Ackart



Series: Quinn the Sole Survivor [1]
Category: Fallout 4
Genre: M/M, Old World Blues, Pre-Relationship, disagreements on synths and ghouls, i think that's it really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-12
Updated: 2016-09-12
Packaged: 2018-08-14 13:48:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8016424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Michael_Ackart/pseuds/Michael_Ackart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After an argument about synths, Danse searches for Quinn at Home Plate. He's there, he's listening to the classical music station and crying.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How It Was

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first of hopefully many short fics detailing Quinn's journey from here to after the Nuka World dlc

Danse walked alone through the streets of Diamond City. He had finished his noodles from the weird robot in the middle of town and figured that was enough time.

He and Quinn got into a fight again.

It stemmed from a discussion about Takahashi actually. Talk of the robot quickly led to talk of synths and Danse already knew that Quinn held very different views from the Brotherhood. He still took the occasional job from them but he and Danse argued more often. And not just about synths, about ghouls too.

Quinn was from a time before these things existed, it should've been easy for him to see how unnatural their existence was. It frustrated Danse to no end, he liked Quinn and if he could just help him see how important the Brotherhood's mission was...

But he didn't want to fight with him right now. So off he was to Dugout Inn, Quinn's usual social spot.

“Danse!” he heard almost immediately after walking in. “Finally here to try our moonshine?”

“I'm looking for Quinn, Vadim. Is he around?”

“He was earlier but he already left.”

Yefim, who was standing by the bar, spoke up. “He mentioned going home. Maybe he's there.”

“Thanks, I-”

“You sure you don't want a drink before you go? You look like you need one.”

“Let him go, Vadim,” his brother snapped.

“Another time,” Danse promised before he was out the door. He was sure Quinn didn't drink any moonshine either, he didn't like to get drunk and even Danse was surprised by his low tolerance.

He walked through the dirty streets again until he was at Home Plate. His eyes flitted to the power armor hooked to the stand outside before he knocked on the door.

No answer.

A month ago, he would've left it at that and waited for Quinn to find him when he was ready. But after traveling together and becoming rather close, he wiggled the handle.

It was unlocked.

As soon as he opened the door, he heard soft music and knew it came from Quinn's pip-boy—there was no radio in the house. And just like he thought, on one of the overstuffed chairs in the sitting area under the second floor, sat Quinn. But-

“What's wrong?” Danse asked, frustrations over their previous fight gone. He walked over, hesitated, then knelt beside him. “Why are you crying?” he said more quietly.

Quinn uselessly wiped at his eyes a bit and looked at the paladin. He gestured haphazardly to his pip-boy. Danse didn't understand. It was still playing music, a soft ancient tune on what he was pretty sure was a piano.

“This channel,” Quinn finally explained. “When I left the Dugout, I found it. It just plays classical music. I know how to play the violin and piano. I used to love it. And I...” Fresh tears welled in his eyes. “The world is so _different_ now, so...hard. I miss things the way they were.”

“Things...weren't perfect back then either.”

“I know that. But I wasn't fighting for my life every day. I didn't have raiders chasing me with lead pipes and rifles. I didn't do questionable things for questionable people for a handful of _bottle caps._ ”

He missed his old life. Danse tried to understand. His own past was rough but Quinn came from a different period altogether. He was a relic, a symbol of the old ways—the same old ways that led the world to its current state. But Quinn was right. Life was probably a lot brighter without worrying about being ambushed down every street.

He wasn't sure what to say. Quinn was a sensitive soul and that was part of what he liked so much about him. No matter how tough or how ugly situations out in the waste got, he still wanted to help as many people as he could and he still tried to see the best of people who didn't always deserve it. Naive some would call him, but Danse suspected it was something different. It was probably why he argued so much in defense of synths and ghouls. But that conversation was on hold for now, not important when Quinn was crying in this chair.

He put a hand on his knee, an attempt at warmth, comfort. And then he slowly rose to join him on the chair. Quinn didn't hesitate the way he had, and he rested his head against Danse.

They'd slept together once and Danse could feel himself falling more and more for this man who simultaneously inspired and aggravated him. But this moment somehow felt just as intimate as that night a couple weeks ago.

“I miss Nora,” he whispered. “And my other cousins, my parents, my friends. Shaun is the only part of that life left and I have no idea where he is or if he's even okay.”

“We'll find him,” Danse promised. “We will. I...don't know what it's like. The world pre-war, to me, is just...something out of a history book. A time we need to learn from so we don't repeat its mistakes. But I'm here now, Quinn. We have differing opinions on certain things but I'll keep fighting by your side. Because of your kindness, because of your willingness to help others. I'm with you.”

Quinn said nothing but he turned his head enough to press his lips against his cheek. Danse felt his own heart beat a little faster. He finally turned his pip-boy radio off and said with a small laugh, “All it's doing is making me sad.” But neither man could find the humor in such a statement.

“I'm sorry I yelled earlier,” Quinn eventually continued.

Danse wondered if he was just trying to fill the silence and he suddenly felt guilty for not doing a better job of that himself. “I am too. But that's not important right now.”

“It's always important. But. Yeah. Did you look for me here first?”

“No. I went to the Dugout. Yefim said you mentioned going home.”

“Did Vadim try to get you to drink his moonshine?”

“Of course. What about you?”

“Every time.”

They laughed.

“I had half a beer, didn't feel like drinking,” Quinn said. “Hey, what are the chances a piano still exists out there?”

Danse really didn't have to say it but he felt like Quinn wanted an answer anyways. “We'll probably have better luck building our own.”

“Damn.”

“Sorry. The Brotherhood doesn't specialize in those sorts of things.”

“In art. Oh well, I already knew.”

“Maybe there's something else out there. Something smaller.”

“I won't get my hopes up. It doesn't matter. I don't have time to be frivolous.”

“No, but we can take comfort in these moments right now.”

Quinn wrapped his arm around Danse, settled in a bit further. The paladin knew he didn't feel much better and he felt bad he couldn't do more. But maybe for now it was enough just to be there with Quinn. Maybe that was enough.


End file.
